Academy Hijinks 101
by Rowena Zahnrei
Summary: A Starfleet Academy story for April Fools' Day! The way Cadet Data responds to an April Fools' Day prank may determine whether he is promoted with his class or forced to repeat his first year. COMPLETE STORY! Reviews Welcome! :)
1. First Part

Disclaimer: I do not own _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ or any of its characters. Please don't sue me or steal my story. Thanks! :)

Hi everyone! It's April Fool's Day! :D This story sprouted from a combination of wonderings I've been wondering for a while, viz.: What kind of practical joke might Data have fallen for in his first year at the academy (he mentioned this to Wesley in _The Game_ ), and what might his academy days have been like in general, given his confession to Worf in _The Next Phase_ that he didn't know what a friend was until he met Geordi. I hope you'll enjoy my story! :)

* * *

 **Academy Hijinks 101**

 **By Rowena Zahnrei**

Lt. Commander Ozymandias Thackeray scowled at his computer screen – more specifically, at the cursor blinking at him from the empty box on the student evaluation form the screen displayed.

 _Blink…blink…blink…blink…blink…blink…_

"Knock, knock!" came the trilling voice of his department chair, Commander Eloise Evans, as she swept into his office without actually knocking or waiting for him to call 'enter'. She wore her hair differently today he noticed, the dozens of waist-length black braids twisted and coiled into a strikingly elaborate bun, but Thackeray didn't comment. Instead, his shoulders tensed at the intrusion into his thoughts and his bitter scowl deepened.

"Well, Ozzy, it's that time again!" the commander practically sang, making herself at home in the chair across from his desk. "Cadet Evaluations are due next week. I must say, I expected to see you a bit more chipper. Weren't you just telling me how our exobiology first years were top o' the notch?"

Thackeray grunted.

"It's that damn android the Board let in," he said, and gestured to the mostly blank form on his screen. "'Cadet' Data. Tell me, Eloise, how the hell am I supposed to evaluate the performance of a machine?"

Evans shrugged her daintily sculpted eyebrows.

"How do you evaluate the performance of any cadet?"

"That's just the thing," Thackeray said. "We're not talking about 'any cadet.' We're talking about a computer. A positronic processor with arms and legs."

Evans leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk.

"Is there something we should be concerned about?" she asked. "Some problem with his work or conduct or—"

"No, not exactly," he grumbled. "That's the issue I've been having with this damn evaluation! Cadet Data has been the model student. Emphasis on _model_. He does what he's told _exactly_ – no more, no less. His lab reports and written assignments are practically perfect as far as recording and relaying the facts and results - straight As, all the way. But here's the problem: they're dryer than dust, without a hint of curiosity or initiative to push beyond the given example or experiment. And, as for class participation – the android hasn't shown a shred of wit or personality. At least, not in my presence. I've been watching, and I have never once seen him _initiate_ a conversation in class. His interactions with his lab partners are solely on a Q &A basis, with them questioning and Data rabbiting off a stream of results like some ambulatory search engine. He has made no friends, no connections. He has no social life to speak of…"

Thackeray shook his head and sighed.

"If he were human, I might put his failure to connect or build any kind of social network down to extreme shyness or even some non-verbal learning disorder, like high-functioning autism, and advise counseling. But, he's not human. He's a machine. He thinks and acts like a machine. And, for the life of me, I can't figure out what the Board was thinking when they let him into this program," he said, and slapped his palms down on the desk. "A machine like that could never be a successful officer. Pristine lab reports and perfect test scores are no indication of a being's ability to give orders, or the leadership qualities required to inspire others to _take_ them. Honestly, Eloise, what it all boils down to… What I've been trying to say…"

He closed his eyes, then spat it out.

"Despite his academic marks, I don't think I can recommend Cadet Data be promoted to second year. Not in good conscience. Not based on what I've seen from him so far."

"I see…"

Evans nodded slowly, carefully digesting the commander's concerns.

"OK, I'll tell you what," she said after a long moment's thought. "We've still got a week. Hold that evaluation back for now, and I'll do some observing of my own. If I agree with your assessment, we'll bring this to the commandant together. After all, it is our job to make sure no cadet is promoted who can't be expected to handle the demands of a Starfleet career. It's no good for the cadet, and it's no good for Starfleet."

"Thanks, Eloise," Thackeray said, and blanked his screen. "You know me. I can't stand to see any of my students fail. But, Starfleet service requires so much more than scholastic achievement of these kids. To be officers, they must earn the trust and respect of those with whom they serve. They have to prove that they can think on their feet, adapt to shifting challenges in situations where the rulebooks won't always apply. And, I'm just not convinced this android has displayed the cognitive ability to make those necessary leaps of initiative and intuition. If he's lacking that, he's just not going to make it here. No matter what training we provide."

"Save your fancy words for the eval-form," Eloise said, rising to her feet. "You've already swayed me. I'll go grab a copy of Cadet Data's schedule from the office secretary, and we'll hammer this out on Monday. Sound good?"

"That's a check, sir," Thackeray said, and they shared a friendly smile. "Oh, and Eloise," he added as she headed for the door. "If you intend to venture out among the student body today, I'd advise you to watch your step. It's April the First, again."

"April Fools' Day, right! I completely forgot," she said, and laughed. "Good luck with your classes, Ozzy. I'll see you at lunch."

 _To Be Continued..._

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 _I'm aiming to finish this story today, so the next part will be coming soon. Stay Tuned!_

 _Reviews welcome! :)_


	2. Second Part

Cadet Data had been reading again, and what he had read continued to crowd his thoughts as he wove his way through the masses of fellow students on their way to classes.

An assignment to analyze Reeves-Stevens' classic text on the history of the Federation had prompted the young android to track down and access the wide-spoking array of source materials that had fed the multi-volume tome. As he read, he'd found his mind honing in on certain types of documents while excluding others, turning his focus away from dry numbers and official accounts and toward the individual experiences of the beings who'd lived and died during the tumultuous events that had shaped their currently peaceful, forward-facing society.

Of particular interest were the intense social connections many of them seemed to forge in times of strife. Soldiers spoke in memoirs of their brothers in arms. Husbands and wives mourned their long separations in e-letters and video-correspondence. Popular songs, films, novels, poetry, art – all were filled with powerful depictions of community and family, friendship and love…

It made the android wonder. Might he, one day, find a similar social dynamic? Had his decision to enter the academy been the right one?

His three lab partners, Robby DeFoe, Beth Winthrop, and Murdock Pel, were already present and busy at their allocated lab table when Data walked in the room. This wasn't entirely unusual, but the android did note a subtle preference for being the first to arrive. Setting up the equipment provided him an opportunity to be of some service to the group, as did volunteering to clean up their shared equipment after the class was over. Apart from answering his partners' questions, that really was the only sense of social participation he had. In every other aspect of his life at the academy, in classes and in the dorm, he was alone.

When the four of them had first been assigned to work together at the start of the semester, Data had keenly anticipated the comradery of a truly collaborative cohort. He had envisioned long nights discussing chemical formulae and interactions, lively debates and deep analyses...

He had quickly learned that was not to be the case.

Just as had happened at the dormatory and following all the meet-and-greet lunches the Exobiology Department had held for its first year students, shortly after the initial introductions were over and the students' curiosity about his android nature had begun to fade, Data had found himself alone: a rock standing awkwardly apart from the current of surrounding conversation - very little of which had to do with the organic chemistry experiments at hand. The one time he had tried to join in with his group's peripheral 'small talk', eager to discover the reasoning behind their shared interest in a popular comedy series he continued to find all but incomprehensible, he'd received only stares and strange silences.

It was not an experience he wished to repeat.

So, he sat quietly observing the others, responding when questioned, and waiting patiently for some sign that would indicate an appropriate moment to insert an opinion or question of his own.

Three months later, he was still waiting.

"Hey, Mr. Computer," Robby greeted in his usual, flippant manner. "Looks like we beat you for a change!"

"I was unaware we were in competition," Data said, blinking curiously at the three of them as he took his seat on his accustomed stool and placed his padd on the table.

Murdock snorted behind his blueish hand.

"We're not," Beth said though, puzzlingly, she was sniggering too.

"Inquiry: what is it you find so amusing?" Data asked, efficiently arranging his equipment, containers, and test tubes in front of him. But, the three of them kept giggling with no offer of an explanation, so Data turned his eyes to his padd to look up the day's experiment.

As he did, he caught himself wondering again. Might the gritting sensation he experienced in his thoughts as he endured their laughter be considered analogous to what humans called 'frustration'?

 _To Be Continued..._


	3. Third Part

Commander Evans peered through the transparent aluminum wall of the busy organic chemistry lab before she strode inside, waving for the TA overseeing the group to keep her seat. There were only about fifteen minutes until the end of class, and every student was hard at work measuring chemicals and mixing fluids amidst a muted hubbub of group work chatter.

The android cadet was easy enough to spot, and not just because of his strikingly pale, white-gold skin and perfectly groomed, swept-back hairstyle. There was something in his posture that set him apart, and something in the way he moved his eyes that made the commander wonder if he knew it.

Aware that the observer affects the behavior of the observed, Evans kept to the back of the room, pretending to examine a holo-display projector in the far corner while she watched the android at his work. He seemed completely focused, but his three lab partners, two humans and one Bolian, seemed unusually flushed and giggly.

Data reached for a labeled test tube, poured the contents into a graduated cylinder, and marked down the measurement. This simple act seemed to send his three partners into a spasm of snickers. Data appeared puzzled, but didn't comment as he reached for a second test tube, added its contents to the liquid in the cylinder...

And stood back, blinking in alarm as a surprisingly powerful scent of bananas wafted from the combined liquids and quickly began to fill the room.

"That should not have happened," he commented, and his three lab partners burst into guffaws, slapping the table as they choked for air.

"What's going on back there," the TA demanded, standing up and striding over to their table. She sniffed the air, and frowned, her face flushing deeply as she realized the department chair was still in the back of the room.

"All right, cadets, you should know the chem lab is no place for pranks," she snapped. "Tampering with another student's experiment is grounds for report, no matter _what_ day it is. Now, who's responsible for this?"

The three giggly cadets sobered at once, their eyes darting anxiously around the room.

"It wasn't tampering, sir," they babbled, each speaking over the other. "Just a joke—esters, you know—isoamyl acetate—harmless, really—"

But, the android stood very still, a small, rather wondrous smile quirking at the corners of his pale lips. As Evans watched, his shoulders straightened and he stepped forward, snapping to attention as he said: "It was my fault, sir. I made a mistake. I assure you, it will not happen again."

The TA seemed puzzled and unconvinced, but Evans waved her down, keeping the android firmly in her sights as she strode across the room.

Data's posture didn't wilt, and his eyes remained steady.

Evans crossed her arms.

"Go back to your work, everyone," she ordered. "Cadet Data, come with me."

"Yes, sir," Data acknowledged, his startled lab partners following with their eyes as she led the android out of the room.

 _To Be Continued..._


	4. Fourth Part

"Well, Cadet?" Commander Evans glared at the android, watching his golden eyes blink. "How about an explanation?"

"Sir?" Data queried.

"I want you to tell me why you lied to Ensign Laurel back there," she snapped. "Claiming responsibility for an April Fools' prank those cadets pulled on you."

"With respect, sir, I did not lie," the android said. "I told the ensign that I had made a mistake. That is true."

"You're telling me you made a mistake mixing those chemicals together?"

"No, sir," Data said. "Those chemicals were quite deliberately switched without my knowledge. My mistake was believing my lab partners did not view me as 'one of them.' I made an incorrect assessment. That is why I accept responsibility for the prank. It was, indeed, my fault."

"And, how do you figure that?" she demanded.

"I did not understand," Data told her. "All these months, I thought I was alone. Isolated. But, my fellow cadets and I _think_ in such different ways..." He cocked his head slightly. "I believe that is why I realized only now that we have, in fact, been reaching out to each other all along...yet failing to connect."

Evans frowned.

"You're not exactly getting through," she said. "Think you can make that a little clearer?"

The android looked at her and, for a moment, she could swear she saw something... A slight flicker in his eyes, his face...

"Students do not prank machines, sir," he said. "If my lab partners truly viewed me as 'Mr. Computer,' they would never have bothered to replace the chemicals I had measured out and labeled last week with isoamyl alcohol and acetic acid. The fact that they chose to include me in their practical joke indicates that I am, indeed, a part of their group. I have made a successful social connection. And they, in turn, have successfully communicated with me."

The android's pale face practically glowed in the corridor's artificial light.

"For the first time, sir," he said brightly, "I quite literally 'got' the joke."

"An interesting interpretation, Cadet," Evans said, regarding the android closely. "Commander Thackeray tells me you keep to yourself. That you only speak when spoken to, interact only when prompted and so on. Would you agree?"

Data's bright expression blanked out, and his golden eyes shot back and forth, as if reading from a page only he could see.

"That may be how it appears," he admitted, "but it is not my intent to 'keep to myself,' sir."

"Then, why don't you speak up? Initiate conversations instead of wait to be included in one?"

"I have, sir, repeatedly," he said.

"And?"

"My attempts have not been successful."

"Why do you think that is?"

Data frowned and looked down at his folded hands. Evans was certain she saw him twiddle his thumbs.

"I am, by nature, extremely fact-oriented and analytical, sir," the android said at last. "Many of the subjects that come easily to me, such as higher mathematics and quantum mechanics, are considered among the most difficult by my fellow students, while many of the subjects they enjoy, such as philosophy and humor, baffle me. We are opposites in many ways, and this makes effective communication difficult."

"So what? You give up? Take a back seat while your classmates grab the wheel?"

"Not at all, sir," Data said, frowning again as he puzzled out her metaphor, then sought for one of his own. "I observe. To an android, such as myself, human social interaction can be considered something of a foreign language. If I am to become fluent in that language, I must continue to observe and practice until I am able to adequately express myself on your _human_ terms. 'Giving up' on that would be counterproductive since, as you are many and I am merely one, it is irrational for me to expect my human colleagues to learn my language, or my way of thinking."

Evans furrowed her brow and crossed her arms.

"Tell me, Data," she said. "What are you doing here? Why do you want to become a Starfleet Officer?"

Data cocked his head.

"As my name implies, it is my primary function to collect and interpret information," he said. "I am particularly intrigued by _life,_ in all its forms. By focusing my studies on exobiology and probability mechanics, I intend to—"

"That's science," Evans broke in. "You could study science anywhere. Why choose Starfleet?"

Data blinked, and she could see he was struggling to find the right words.

"Starfleet...is a community dedicated to exploration and discovery," he said. "I...I wish to be a part of that community. To further a shared mission to seek out life in our galaxy...to experience what it means to function as a crew...a team...a family..."

"Is that what Starfleet service means to you?" Evans asked curiously.

"It is," Data told her. "And, more. As a science officer aboard a starship, I believe my analytical, android nature would be a boon, rather than a drawback, to my fellow crewmates. And, because I can operate for extended periods in environments few humanoids can tolerate, I could collect specimens from—"

"All right, Cadet, I understand," Evans said, and thoughtfully cupped her chin. "You mind if I ask you one more question?"

"No, sir. I do not mind at all."

"What are you going to do about that prank?"

Data narrowed his eyes.

"I do not understand," he said.

"Are you just going to shrug it off?" she asked. "Let it slide? Are you going to confront them? Or, do you have some sort of retaliation in mind?"

"I...had not yet considered—"

"Then, let's consider this Academy Hijinks 101," Evans said and smiled, just slightly. "I don't know how much time Commander Thackeray has spent talking with you, Data, but I think I'm starting to glimpse another facet of this picture and, I have to say, I'm curious to see more. So, I'm going to give you a little test of my own. Think you're up to it, Cadet?"

Data blinked rather helplessly but answered with a quick, "Yes, sir."

"Excellent," she said. "Because this will take initiative and, possibly, some intuition. Follow me."

 _To Be Concluded..._


	5. Fifth Part

_Thanks very much! :) Sorry I wasn't able to finish the story yesterday. I fell asleep and then I didn't get a chance to get back to writing until late, late, late this evening. But, here it is: the last part! Thanks for reading and reviewing, and I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this story! :D_

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It was still early for lunch, but Commander Evans wanted to talk and The Porthole seemed the perfect neutral spot – not too informal, but not too official either. The cavernous, buffet-style cafeteria was located in the Student Union, but faculty and staff had their own dining room with its own door, set apart from the students' common area.

With quick, sure strides, Evans led the android cadet through the sliding door into the dim, quiet dining room, and smiled. Just as she had expected, at that time of morning the place was nearly deserted, save for one teacher in the far back corner sipping coffee as she slowly flipped her way through an imposing stack of student essays.

"Pick a table, Cadet," Evans said, and strode to the matter replicator that dominated the front of the room. The bulky device was new tech designed to replace kitchens in deep space vessels, and the academy was one of three Starfleet institutions where they were being tested. "You want something? Tea? Coffee?"

"No, sir. Thank you," the android said politely, choosing a table with a view of the large window overlooking San Francisco Bay.

"You sure?" Evans prompted, ordering a black coffee for herself. No matter how many times she used the thing, watching the mug with its fragrant, steaming contents materialize out of thin air never failed to amaze her.

"I am an android," the android said. "I do not require food or drink in the way that humans do."

"That's interesting," the commander said, bringing her coffee to the table and taking the seat across from his. "Does that mean you don't eat at all?"

"No, sir," Data said. "I am capable of ingesting and processing a wide variety of raw materials, and I do have organic components that must, occasionally, be replenished."

"Ah," she said, quickly swallowing a sip of _almost_ too-hot coffee. "Then, you _can_ eat. You just don't have to very often.

"Yes, sir," Data acknowledged. "If you are interested, I could provide you with a detailed schematic of my digestive—"

Evans raised a hand to head him off.

"No, no, that won't be necessary," she said, and smiled a little. "But, I do have to ask: when you do eat, what do you like?"

Data cocked his head.

"Like, sir?"

"I mean, do you have a favorite food? Me, I like lemon brined olives. Oh, and fresh cherries – real ones, right off the tree. These clunky replicators will surely have their uses someday, but nothing will ever beat the taste of real, _fresh_ food _._ Wouldn't you agree?"

"I would not know, sir," Data said, his yellow eyes fixed on the table. "I do not have the capacity to 'taste' my food, as humans do."

"Really? You can't taste anything?"

"Not as such," he said, his eyes still downcast.

Evans quirked an eyebrow.

"So, I could put hot dogs in your strawberry milkshake and you wouldn't know the difference?"

"I would know that, sir," Data told her, looking up at last. "I can identify and analyze the chemical composition of the foods I ingest. However, I have been told that the experience is not the same."

"No, I wouldn't think so," Evans said, regarding him somberly as she took another, slower sip of coffee. "Data, tell me something. Do you think you're getting enough support here?"

"Support?" The android blinked. "I do not understand."

"You mentioned before that you've been feeling isolated. Alone." She peered at him. "Have you made any friends, Data?"

The android blinked a few more times.

"There are my lab partners..." he tried.

"Classmates. Colleagues. Acquaintances," she said, and shook her head. "Now, ask me if I've made any friends since I took this position last year."

Data looked up at her curiously.

"Have you—"

"No," she answered before he finished. "The answer is no. At least, not yet. Oh, I like my colleagues here. We have a great working relationship. But, so far, that's all it is."

She sighed a little and sat back in her chair.

"You know, Starfleet Officers can go for years hopping from assignment to assignment, building close and rewarding working relationships with group after group, and that's just fine. But, once you move on, most of those relationships just seem to...fade away. True friendship isn't like that. It's not something casual, temporary, or situational. A real friend will stick with you, no matter where your careers might lead, or how far apart you may end up. I want you to remember that, Data, because humans tend to casually throw important words around until their meaning gets muddled, and it's easy to get discouraged, and confused. Will you remember?"

"I will, sir," Data told her. "I remember every fact I am exposed to. But, I am afraid that I do not understand what you are trying to tell me."

She smiled.

"Maybe not yet," she said. "But I think, someday, you might. And, that's why I wanted to talk with you, Cadet. I think there's more to you than you've been letting on in class. And, it might just benefit us both if we took advantage of this day to prove it."

"Sir?" Data narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Are you referring to April Fools' Day?"

Her small smile turned slightly wicked.

"I'm going to give you a little test," she said. "I'm curious to see if your positronic brain is up to the challenge."

Data tilted his head.

"What is the challenge?" he asked.

"I want you to devise an _original_ April Fools' Day prank. Not some rehash of an old chestnut like the banana esters 'stinkbomb' prank your lab partners pulled on you. I mean something I haven't seen before. And, it has to be something light - playful. In keeping with the spirit of the day."

Data blinked rather helplessly, and he seemed to swallow.

"How long do I have to complete this test, sir?" he asked.

"I'll give you ten minutes to give me your best idea," she said, and glanced at her wrist chronometer. "Time begins...now."

* * *

Commander Evans glided over to Thackeray's lunch table and dropped a cafeteria take-out box under his nose.

"What's this?" he asked, glancing up from his padd.

"Just a snack," she said. "The replicator got an upgrade this morning. I thought you'd like to try something off the new menu."

Thackeray gave a suspicious grunt, but started opening the container just the same.

"New menu, eh? This isn't one of those weird, extraterrestrial foods you're always— Oh!" He smiled in surprise. "A hot dog! And, it even has mustard and sauerkraut!"

"I thought you'd approve," she said, and sat down. "Ozzy, I want you to nix that eval. I'm recommending Cadet Data advance with his class."

Thackeray paused to stare at her, his hot dog halfway to his mouth.

"What is this, an April Fools'?"

"No," she said. "I'm dead serious, Oz. That android's got potential. I say we give this kid a chance to grow."

Thackeray frowned.

"But you agreed: his cognitive—"

"Trust me," she said. "I think he'll surprise you. And, that's no joke." She smiled. "Now, eat your hot dog."

Thackeray smirked darkly at her, but took a large bite.

His eyes widened, and he quickly reached for a napkin.

Evans laughed brightly into her hands.

"April Fools', Ozzy!"

"Good God, it's sweet!" Thackeray exclaimed. "It tastes like...like strawberries and...and lemon curd...and..."

"Grated pear," Evans offered, struggling calm her giggles. "All on a sweet, eggy bun. Ingenious, isn't it? It was Cadet Data's idea."

"What?" Thackeray frowned at her. "What do you mean? Are you saying that android—"

"I gave him a test," Evans said. "I asked him to put on his thinking cap and use his android ingenuity to devise a suitable prank for April Fools' Day. This is what he came up with."

"A strawberry hot dog? But...why?" Thackeray sputtered.

"Why not?" she retorted. "If you ask me, I think this 'dessert' hot dog is a pretty clever insight into his way of thinking." She smiled. "Not everything should be taken at face value."

Thackeray gave a grudging grunt.

"All right," he said. "I know what you're getting at. But, if I don't see some improvement in Cadet Data's leadership and social skills next semester, I will take my concerns about that machine to the commandant. With or without your support."

"Fair enough," Evans acknowledged, and stood. "But, I don't think there'll be a problem. On my recommendation, Cadet Data has signed up for our Student Mentoring program. Personally, I think he'll make a fine mathematics tutor, and it'll give him a chance to practice those very skills you quite rightly say he needs to improve. Enjoy the rest of your lunch."

She strode toward the door...then glanced back to see Thackeray taking another experimental bite of his strawberry hot dog. He nodded, just slightly, then finished the unique little cake before turning his attention back to his padd.

* * *

Cadet Data entered the library's study room, and was immediately surrounded by his three lab partners.

"Data!" Beth exclaimed. "You're still here!"

"What happened with the department chair?" Robby demanded.

"Did she put you on report?" asked Murdock.

 _"Him?_ What about _us?"_ Robby said.

"Well, Data?" Beth pressed. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Data blinked and stared at the three of them in confusion.

"There is no cause for concern," he said. "Commander Evans accepted my explanation. She was most understanding."

"Then..." Murdock stared up at him. "Then, you really took the rap? For all of us?"

"There was no 'rap' to take," Data said, still puzzled. "I explained my mistake, and she invited me to lunch. In fact, she suggested I bring something back for the three of you."

Data reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out three cafeteria take out containers.

The cadets opened them at once.

"Hey, hot dogs!" Robby cheered.

"Wow, thanks!" Murdock said in surprise.

Beth grinned.

"I can't remember the last time I had a hot dog!"

Data slung his bag back over his shoulder, and waited for their reactions. As anticipated, there was shock, then surprise.

Then, came something he hadn't expected.

Laughter.

But, this wasn't the mocking laughter he had heard from them before. This time, it sounded...different.

"Ha!" Robby barked, and clapped the android's arm. "Who woulda thought! Mr. Computer over here has got a sense of humor!"

"I am afraid that I cannot agree with that assessment, as I feel no inclination to laugh," Data said. "But, there is something I would like to say."

"Yeah?" Murdock asked, his mouth full of lemon curd and strawberry mousse.

"April Fools'," Data said, and joined the laughing group at their study table.

The End

* * *

 _References Include - TNG: Hero Worship; The Next Phase; Peak Performance; Deja Q; The Game; Legacy; The Ensigns of Command; Elementary Dear Data... The banana ester prank was my Dad's idea, and so was the idea of a test. The strawberry hot dog was based on a prank I once pulled on him after seeing a cake shaped like a giant cheeseburger. I spooned stripes of super thick strawberry mousse (colored with food coloring) onto plastic wrap, rolled them up and twisted the ends so they'd look like the ends of a hot dog, then put them in the freezer until just set enough hold their shape. They really looked convincing - but the sweet berry smell was a bit of a giveaway... :D_

 _Thanks for reading! Your reviews are always welcome! :D_


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